A Christmas Standoff (Cold Feet and Mistletoe)
by Sandrine Shaw
Summary: "Well, as you've so astutely pointed out, Scarlet, it's Christmas," Leonard drawled. "Wouldn't want to mess with tradition now, would we?" (Or: Of all the ways trying to stop a robbery on Christmas Day could have gone wrong, this was probably not what Barry had expected.)


**A Christmas Standoff (Cold Feet and Mistletoe)**  
by Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)

"You're not seriously robbing a bank _at Christmas_?" Barry sounded all kinds of scandalized. He managed to level a disapproving look at Leonard while easily evading the flare of the cold gun. "I can't believe you, Snart!"

There was no need to hurry. Mick had already finished up in the vault downstairs and was waiting in the get-away car, and Lisa had the safe deposit boxes covered, which gave Leonard plenty of time to trade banter with his favorite righteous vigilante while stalling for time. He grinned at Barry.

"What is it they say? _No rest for the wicked._ Not all of us can afford to take the holiday season off, Scarlet," he drawled.

And if he aimed a bit wider than usual, missing Barry zipping past by a few inches, well... it was Christmas, after all.

"What, is bank robbery somehow time-sensitive and couldn't wait a few days? You're so full of shit. I had better things planned for tonight than chasing after you."

There was some petulance in Barry's tone, like he felt genuinely inconvenienced having to don the suit to stop a robbery tonight. Not a particularly _heroic_ attitude, but Leonard couldn't blame him. He had seen the West house all festively decorated last year when he'd made his surprise visit to warn Barry about Mardon and Jesse coming after him, so he had some idea what Christmas had to be like for Barry – the sort of happy family gathering Leonard only knew from commercials and those silly movies Lisa occasionally forced him to sit through. Truth be told, he felt almost sorry having ruined it for the kid.

But business was business. Barry was trying to get past him to where Lisa hadn't quite finished packing up yet, and Leonard couldn't have that.

"No one forced you to come out and play tonight, Flash. You could have had a nice _cozy_ Christmas at home and spared yourself the cold feet." He pointed the gun at where Barry would be in five... four... three... two... one second and fired, pleased when Barry was stopped short in his tracks, his feet frozen solid to the floor.

Gotcha.

Barry barely caught himself before he fell over, flailing wildly to regain his balance and making a hilarious spectacle of himself. It was the most entertaining thing Leonard's seen in weeks.

When Barry had found his footing (ha!) again, he sent Leonard a glare that somehow managed to convey a deep sense of betrayal. It's as if he expected Captain Cold to go easy on him just for the festive season. He really should have known better. Leonard raised an eyebrow. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"This isn't going to be enough to stop me. As soon as I can move again, I'll be right after you."

Of course he would. Because no one did stubborn as well as Barry Allen. Not that it would be of much use to him. Unconcerned, Leonard shrugged and stepped closer to where Barry was stuck on the spot and vibrating his feet to get them free.

"True. But if I calculated right – and I know that I did – that won't be for another..." He made a show of checking his clock. "Twelve minutes and forty seconds, and until then we'll already be safely away with the goods. And the fastest man on earth once again will have been _too slow_ to stop me."

In front of him, Barry was positively seething, which only made Leonard's smirk grow wider. The money they stole was a nice Christmas present all by itself, but adding the pleasure of getting under the Flash's skin? Priceless.

As if on cue, Lisa came rushing out of the vault that held the – presumably now empty – safety deposit boxes. "I'm done, we can get going. That took longer than expected."

Leonard offered a lazy shrug, like he had all the time in the world and time wasn't ticking down on them, even when he was mentally counting down the minutes until the cops would show up or Barry got himself free. "No rush, sis, I got everything covered here." He threw another self-satisfied smile Barry's way for good measure.

Lisa abruptly started laughing behind him. He turned towards her and raised an eyebrow, unsure what exactly prompted the reaction. Sure, the Flash being iced motionless to the floor was funny, but not really in a laugh-out-loud hilarious kind of way.

"So, Lenny, did you freeze the Flash right there in that doorway on purpose?"

She seemed unduly amused, and he had no idea what exactly she's getting at. It irked him a little. He hated feeling out of the loop, even and especially with Lisa, who had a way to rub it in when she knew something he didn't.

"Care to elaborate?" he asked, and his tone was sharp enough to cut glass.

Undeterred by his mood, the gleeful expression didn't vanish from Lisa's face, and she pointed above where he and Barry stood with a cheshire grin. "I'm just saying, it's very convenient that you put your favorite nemesis riiiiight under a mistletoe."

Leonard looked up, and indeed – there was a garish, silver tinted branch of mistletoe fixed above the doorway. He hadn't really had time to check out the bank's Christmas decorations before, and he didn't care for it now, but this was too priceless to be ignored: Captain Cold and the Flash caught under the mistletoe. Such a beautiful irony.

Leonard turned to Barry, who was already giving him a glowering look that said 'you wouldn't _dare_ '. So foolish. As if he didn't know that there'd never been a dare Leonard could resists – and certainly not this one.

He shrugged again. "Well, as you've so astutely pointed out, Scarlet, it's Christmas. Wouldn't want to mess with _tradition_ now, would we?"

He leaned in and planted a quick, dry smack on Barry's mouth, just the briefest pressure of lips against lips intended to rile the kid up some more.

There was a quip on the tip of his tongue when he broke away, but it died when Barry's eyes narrowed behind his mask, a calculating expression on his face that gave Leonard pause. Sure, there'd always been a flirtatious undertone to their banter, too playful to be serious but also too caustic to be flippant, but he wondered if he'd crossed a line just now.

Barry's fists clenched in the hood of Leonard's parka, and for a moment he thought he was going to get punched in the face. He probably deserved it, too. Instead, with a frustrated huff, Barry pulled him in and slammed their lips together. It was nothing like the parody of a kiss Leonard taunted him with, all heat and tongue and teeth. A beautiful mess of unleashed anger and desire, and Leonard thought that if this was the result of pushing Barry too far, he'd never stop pushing.

Up close, Barry smelled like electricity and fresh air, and the taste of mulled wine that he must have had before he came here still lingered on his tongue. Leonard felt the pull and ease of Barry's fingers tightening and loosening again against his hood, as if Barry couldn't quite make up his mind whether to shove him away or pull him even closer.

It was Leonard who broke away, eventually, light-headed and breathless but aware that he was running out of time and needed to get going.

Barry looked positively wrecked, lips kiss-wet and swollen, the skin under his mask almost the same color as his suit and his pupils blown wide – and oh, it was so tempting to stick around, tell Lisa to leave without him and figure out more ways to make Central City's upstanding hero lose control. But there was a time and a place, and taking Barry Allen apart, piece by pleasurable piece, would unfortunately have to wait.

"Merry Christmas, Barry," he whispered, voice too soft for Lisa to hear the name. He let his lips brush across Barry's cheek as he moved back, pleased at the tiny shiver of Barry's body against his.

Louder, he added, "And happy melting." He pointedly looked down at where Barry's feet where still frozen, making Barry roll his eyes at him, but the earlier edge of genuine frustration was gone from his face.

From the bank's entrance, Lisa grinned and waved. "Later, Flash!"

"I'm still going to catch you," Barry called after Leonard's disappearing form, making him stop with his hand on the door handle.

He couldn't quite resist turning back and throwing a final, lopsided smirk Barry's way that may or may not have held a fraction more warmth than usually. "Looking forward to it, Scarlet."

End.


End file.
